I’d already texted my mom and dad to let them get some sleep knowing I was on the ground safely (a tradition of parent/child communication I adhere to vehemently), now ESPN Radio played me the final outs from Wrigley as I drove home from the airport. Nothing but called strikes and double plays broke the 10pm silence on I-95.

The ride to my parent’s house is an expensive bore on the PA Turnpike but I’m making it on a school night tonight to watch game one of the World Series with my dad. I want to share the experience of a Cubs v. Indians World Series not because either of us are fans of those teams but because those two teams have quietly played a role in our lives as baseball fans, and as a father and a son. It’s well worth making the drive to his house tonight to do this. Frankly, it would be strange not to sit beside him to watch this game.

My dad drove a similar distance for me decades ago, so that I could meet and get a few autographs from my favorite baseball player, a Chicago Cub, and a few years ago he stood upon the very mound on which the 2016 World Series will begin, and threw out the first pitch to my oldest daughter before an Indians game, then shook hands and chatted about golf with Cleveland manager Terry Francona. That was a wild night for him and me.

There’s also the time 8 summers ago when for his 70th birthday I checked off one of my dad’s sports bucket list line items by flying him to Chicago to see our Phillies play at the famed Northside ball field. It was his first visit to Wrigley and it didn’t matter at all that our Phillies lost. In fact, that was kind of perfect. Cubs win! Cubs win!

Nope, we aren’t exactly fans of the Cubs or the Indians but fate put both of those baseball teams in our lives throughout the years and so my dad and I will have some of my mom’s homemade soup and a freshly-made ham & cheese on rye, and watch the first game of this historic World Series together.